


Venomous

by MissBrainProblems



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21592291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBrainProblems/pseuds/MissBrainProblems
Summary: Currently a prototype.Some people would say that using your powers for revenge or personal gain would somehow be wrong, or evil, or "villainous". Taylor Hebert doesn't think so. If society wanted to label her a villain just because she used her powers for "selfish" reasons, then Taylor would be fine with that; they still wouldn't be able to stop her, not with a legion of ruthless, merciless insects at her command, ready to bite, and sting, and poison people, until their mouths foamed and they regretted ever trying to mess with Taylor Hebert. An attempt at a believable, non-crack Villain!Taylor fic.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	1. Sting

I had been anticipating this day for the past two and a half weeks, ever since I got out of the hospital. I had, of course, wanted to do this on the first day I arrived back at school, and my power was screaming in the back of my head to unleash my swarm of insects upon the three bitches that had tormented me for over a year and a half by that point; however, I knew that it would be far too obvious who had done it, who the new parahuman in Winslow was if I attacked them the same day I returned to school. No, instead, I decided to wait two weeks and two days, long and disconnected enough from my return to classes that nobody would be able to connect the attack to me just from the timing. It was decidedly dangerous for me to be in the cafeteria at the same time that I launched the attack, but... What could I say? I wanted to see and hear those sluts as my bugs descended upon them.

I kept a low profile as I grabbed my tray of food, keeping the hood of my sweater pulled up to make sure that the trio didn't notice me before I made my way over to the vantage point I had picked out. Breathing a sigh of relief as I sat down at the relatively isolated table, I tapped into my power and registered the presence of my arthropodal army. During my research, I was disappointed to find that the more "famous" venomous spiders like the black widow, brown recluse, and hobo spiders weren't native to New England, and I wasn't able to find any that had made their way up to Brockton while I was walking to school. Thankfully, New England wasn't _completely_ devoid of venomous insects, and I collected wolf spiders, broad-faced sac spiders, and an array of apoidean wasps and bees, all of which had relatively weak but still useful venom. The part of my swarm that I was particularly proud of for gathering, though, were the ticks and fleas, ones that I had made sure were carrying a wide variety of communicable diseases; I couldn't _wait_ to hear what sort of shit the three cunts would end up contracting.

The thing about pest control is that most people don't realize that all of the creepy crawlies they want to keep out of their houses will always, _always_ find some way in; and when they have a human brain guiding them through ventilation shafts and water pipes? Yeah, nobody knew that there were hundreds of bugs ready and waiting to descend into the cafeteria. I had practiced everything about this attack several times over the past two weeks while I waited for the proper timing; I had sent waves of insects onto rats, dogs, and cats to understand how to best go for a group attack. It wasn't exactly rocket science, but I still wanted to make sure that everything about my assault on the trio went as perfect as I could manage it. I hadn't just practiced the actual attack, either; while imagining that any given mutt or stray was Emma or Sophia or Madison, I practiced making sure that I wouldn't make any faces, wouldn't laugh, wouldn't giggle, wouldn't give the game away to anybody that looked my way. It wouldn't do to out myself as a so-called "villain" after I had only been able to use my powers once for something that I wanted to do; no, I had a whole _slough_ of things that I was intending to do with my power, and I needed to stay out of prison to make sure that I could do them.

A burst of laughter from the triplet of whores shook me out of my thoughts, and I turned my attention to where they were sitting, flanked by a few of their flunkies; I vaguely considered siccing my bugs on Julia and the others, but I decided that I wanted to make sure that _everything_ I had was reserved for the main trio. Psyching myself up, I took several deep breaths, and gave myself a mental countdown. Five... Four... Three... Two... One...!

One spider, one bee, one wasp, one tick wouldn't sound like much. Under normal circumstances, you'd only be able to hear the typical bug if it was close by; hundreds of insects at once, though? Yeah, you could hear that. Wings, legs, feet, all moving toward that table. The screams started soon enough, not because of any bites yet being delivered, but just from the _sight_ of my swarm closing in on them. I let their posse escape, I didn't care about those floozies; when Madison tried to make a dash away from the table, though? She was the first target, the faster wasps flying onto her and starting to sting; it would take an immense amount of wasp venom to be lethal to the girl - unless Madison had any allergies that I wasn't aware of - and I spread my attacks out so that they affected the widest range of her body. The eyes, the lips, the nose - careful not to block her airway, it wouldn't do if she suffocated - making sure to tarnish that disgustingly "cute" little face of hers; the limbs, too, though, wherever they were exposed, and wherever the fabric was thin enough to be stung through. More than anything, though, I let the _ticks_ in, let them bite and suck her blood and spread their diseases into her circulatory system so that she'd have to _suffer_ for the next few weeks or months. Killing them outright just would not do, no; I wanted them to feel as much pain as they had put me through for the past year and a half.

The whole cafeteria was chaos, and some people had fallen back to my corner of the room, seeking refuge from the swarm of arthropods as I continued my assault; I used every ounce of mental energy that I wasn't using to control my legion of bugs in order to keep myself look as scared and as shocked as everyone else, though I still worried that I was letting grins and smiles slip through. "Get the bug spray!" One person shouted. "There's too many!" Another person shouted. "What is this?!" A third person questioned. Why, my dear friend, it was _revenge_ , plain and simple revenge, for every, _everything_ those fucking _bitches_ had put me through for _so fucking long_ and none of you fucking _shitheads_ bothered to ever help me with and I should _probably_ turn this army onto you, as well, to make _you_ suffer, as well, and-

No, I stopped myself. Those three were my targets. Nobody else. It wouldn't be nearly as satisfying to spread my attack out. "How about a fire extinguisher?!" I considered that question myself once it was asked, and realized that the suppressive material of a fire extinguisher probably _would_ kill my swarm en masse; before that could happen, I had to make sure, had to _make sure_ that Emma and Sophia received similar attention as Madison had. Both of them were soon host to an army of insects - the spiders had arrived, as well - biting and stinging and whatever else they needed to do in order to inject their toxins, make their faces and their skin swell up, and give them as many diseases as my ticks and fleas had managed to carry. I lowered my head toward the table, ostensibly to look like I was so scared and disgusted that I couldn't continue watching; I took the opportunity to smile, to grin, to giggle, to laugh, unheard over the continued screaming of everyone around me, able to take joy in this act of vengeance without anybody being able to suspect me. Two weeks. Over two weeks I had been waiting for this, and it was just as amazing as I had thought it would be. I almost wanted to kill them, almost really genuinely wanted to just send bees into their throat and swell up their airways, make them gag and suffocate right there on the cafeteria floor...

But no. I couldn't. Just that wouldn't be enough, wouldn't be even close to enough. I was thankful, even, as a group of teenagers and students both began to hose down my legions with fire extinguishers, bugs dying by the hundreds as their bodies absorbed toxic chemicals from the fire suppressant; I sent the remaining insects into hiding, content with the work that I had done. As the situation calmed down, and as people rushed to the aid of those _fucking sluts_ , I heard people begin to call out again. "Someone call an ambulance!" Somebody responded with: "And the police! Someone did this!" Another person added: "Shouldn't we call the PRT?! That had to have been a cape!" My heart didn't sink too much at that, though; I figured that the PRT would be called after a display like that, and I had prepared for that eventuality, amongst all others. It wasn't as if there was any proof for me to hide, anyways; all my bugs were gone, and I hadn't carried any with me. If they were to check backpacks, they'd find nothing relevant in mine, nor in any of my pockets, nor anywhere else. I was scot free, with no worries about it.

~~\----------~~

...or I wouldn't have had any worries, if the Protectorate had sent any other of their "heroes" aside from Armsmaster. I had spent a significant amount of time on the PHO boards since I had triggered, and I had heard rumors that the guy had some sort of lie detector built into his helmet. That alone wouldn't have concerned me, too much, since I doubted that he would have taken the time to interrogate every student as we filed out of the school building in a slow but steady evacuation... Except, that was _exactly_ what he was doing. I had set a fly on the back of his head, attempting to make out what he was asking everybody who passed by; insect hearing wasn't the greatest, and it didn't translate well to a human's understanding of sound, but after listening to him say the same thing enough times, I managed to suss it out: "Were you the one that attacked Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements?" It was a simple enough question, of course, but if he asked it to me, and I said no? The jackass would haul me right off to the Birdcage, or some crap like that. Obviously, that wouldn't do, as I still had a million things I wanted to be able to do with my powers.

I considered the circumstances at hand. Armsmaster, along with two PRT agents, was positioned at one of the side entrances to the school building, which had been designated as the evacuation point; if I could make it past the Protectorate cape through that exit, I'd be home free, but I doubted my ability to fool Armsmaster's lie detector. Every other door out of the school was guarded by two to three PRT agents, with their canisters of containment foam and various other weaponry; it seemed like a rather significant over-reaction for some stupid cunts being attacked by a swarm of bugs, but I didn't pretend to understand how the PRT worked. Those agents weren't letting anybody - student, teacher, janitor, whatever - out of those doors, and so I doubted I could just waltz through those exits out to the street. My bugs detected some other PRT personnel immediately outside the school building, too... Had they established some sort of perimeter? I thought back to where Armsmaster was processing students; were they checking off every student that went through, to make sure that we were all accounted for? What would happen if I wasn't on record as having passed his lie detector test?

Shit. Why couldn't it have been Miss Militia, or Assault, or Battery, or Velocity, or Dauntless, or _any_ other hero that wasn't capable of fucking _detecting lies_? I set up a single fly on each student walking past Armsmaster. As far as I could tell, none of them were giving their names, and were only giving monosyllabic yes or no answers to his interrogation; I didn't detect any movements from their arms or their hands, either, suggesting that they weren't flashing their school badges. That didn't mean that Armsmaster wasn't just using some sort of facial recognition technology to cross-reference with the school body and then... Shit, shit shit _shit_. Thinking that way wasn't doing me any good, though, and I forced myself to keep considering options.

Could I hide somewhere? Wait for the PRT to leave? Or would they search every nook and cranny of the school, every locker, every dumpster, looking for someone that was trying to hide away and keep from being caught? No, hiding wouldn't do; I had to escape, had to leave the school, there was just no other option. I considered what I had left of my swarm, sitting in the ventilation shafts around the building; did I have enough to take down two PRT agents and make a break for it? Did the PRT agents have cameras attached to their helmets? I considered the possibility of hiding myself in bugs; I had experimented with that a bit, and as creepy as it felt, I was pretty sure that I wouldn't be recognized as I did. Even if there was a perimeter outside of Winslow, if I could just run past in a cloud of insects, then I'd manage to keep myself from being immediately identified. It was the only real option, barring jumping out of a window and possibly breaking my legs in the process.

I made my way into a nearby bathroom, sitting myself in a stall as I tapped into my swarm; I searched around, and found the least defended exit, with the least tight perimeter immediately outside. That was my destination. I gathered up as much of my army as I could, and positioned it in nearby hiding spots, ready to spool out to cover me and attack the agents; I vaguely worried that assaulting PRT officers would put me even more on the heroes' shit list than I already was, but I additionally supposed that getting onto said shit list would have ended up happening sooner or later, with all of the things that I intended to eventually do. Making sure that my hoodie was secure enough that it could reasonably conceal my face, I took off my glasses in order to keep that identifying feature from being seen as I left the bathroom and began to march over to the exit that I was preparing to assault.

Right before I turned the corner that would have put me into the sightline of the PRT agents, I sent my swarm out, bees and spiders crawling under their helmets and going for their eyes and their mouth; I considered just killing them, since it wasn't as if I wanted them to suffer like how I wanted the trio to suffer, but the repercussions that would come down on my head if I actively murdered PRT officers made me reconsider that option. Instead, I gathered as many of the other insects as I could to cover myself, had spiders climb up onto my shoes and jeans, had wasps cover my arms and chest, while leaving me just enough open space on my head to keep my albeit inhibited eyesight unbarred. The PRT agents were writhing around, screaming in pain, while one of them desperately reached for his radio; I knew that my attack would be reported eventually, but I had my insects focus on the hand he was trying to use in order to delay that inevitably as much as possible.

I rushed past the officers and out the doors, pulling my swarm off of the two agents inside and sending them rushing out to the two troopers standing guard on the perimeter; they had apparently believed that there wouldn't be any trouble coming their way, as both of them were relaxed and anything but vigilant. Even so, one of them tried to use his containment foam dispenser, and succeeding in catch some of my legions in it; cursing, I refocused, and sent my bugs up under their helmets just as I had against their friends, blinding them first, and then aiming to cause pain immediately after. I ran past them as quickly as I could - I had picked up jogging since I got out of the hospital, in preparation for the fitness I would need if I was to start working as a "villain" - and out onto the streets of Brockton Bay. I heard some shouts from behind me, other officers that had been manning the perimeter, and sent my army to delay them for as long as possible.

I had begun to study maps of the areas around Winslow, reading over them until the layout of the surrounding blocks were practically branded into my memory; I knew that the way that I was running had a maintenance tunnel that led down into a water treatment plant, and I knew that it was always unlocked. As I grew closer to it, and once I was certain that neither the PRT troopers nor Armsmaster was immediately behind me, I dispersed the swarm that had been cloaking me, and dashed as fast as I could to the maintenance tunnel door; I thanked every lucky star I had that it still wasn't locked, and practically threw myself into the building before slamming it shut behind me. I considered heading further down into the treatment plant, but I was completely and utterly exhausted; besides, if anybody had seen me enter through the door, there would be no way that I could manage to hide from the PRT down in there, so there was no sense in trying. Instead, I collapsed onto my bottom, leaning my back up against the wall, and began recovering my breath, letting the adrenaline leave my bloodstream to be replaced by the rush of endorphins that came afterward.

"Hahaha..." I felt giddy. I felt light. I felt amazing. "Hahahaha!" I had done it. I had actually done it. I had made those fucking bitches suffer, made them squirm in pain, and given them diseases and sicknesses that would be crippling them for months to come, ruining Emma's modeling career, ruining Sophia's track star status, and ruining Madison's... Whatever she cared about. "Hah... Hah... Fuck..." I buried my face in my hands, and began to cry, began to cry tears of joy, tears of relief, tears of every possible emotion I could think of. Even as my body was wracked by powerful sobs, I knew that nobody, _nobody_ would _ever_ fuck with Taylor Hebert ever, _ever_ again, and I _cried_ because of that fact, cried so, so much.


	2. Bury

Perhaps, in retrospect, I should have known that there'd be PRT vans pulled up outside my house when I got home; perhaps, in retrospect, I should have known that Armsmaster and his goons were going to show up at the house of the student with the most motivation to attack the trio, at the house of the one student who likely hadn't registered in whatever database that old Halderp was using during his drive-by interrogations. I supposed, though, that some part of me had been hoping that some miracle was going to have had happen, and that the layers upon layers of evidence that would have connected me to the incident at lunch would somehow managed to have mysteriously disappeared; an immature, naive hope, perhaps, but it was what I had been praying for nevertheless. As I came to a halt at a nearby bus-stop and used the cover to spy on my house - Christ almighty, those stupid PRT thugs were making me _spy_ on my _own house_ \- I considered, for the second time that day, what sort of options I had to be able to evade capture.

My first instinct was to send a fly in to scout around; it was nothing but a simple housefly, and only one of them, buzzing along just a normal housefly would when it would be doing normal housefly things, and yet... "Th..." Armsmaster's voice was odd and unintelligible in my scout's insect ears, but the meaning of his words became perfectly clear when my fly experienced an electric shock followed by death but a moment later. Really? Like, _really_? Was the PRT so fucking obstinate to have killed _every_ bug in my home? It was _my_ home, they didn't have any fucking right to do that! A cursory examination of the property with my powers confirmed that, at some point, Armsmaster and his grunts must have gone through and exterminated every insect that they could find; there was still plenty left, of course - the PRT wasn't nearly as smart as they thought they were - but after Armsmaster's little display, I wasn't willing to risk outing myself by sending more bugs to look.

Okay, so the scouting was a no go. I could live with that; I fucking _hated_ that Armsmaster was cutting me off from one of the most crucial aspects of my power, but hey, fuck me, right? I'm just some girl that finally took revenge and enacted justice on her bullies when absolutely nobody else would, when none of the school administration was willing to do anything about it, when Emma's _fucking_ dad threatened to sue us into oblivion if we tried to take it to court, when nobody - when _nobody_ \- was willing to do the _right fucking thing;_ so fuck me, right? Oooh, I'm the bad guy! I'm the villain! I'm a spooky evil criminal just because I did what needed to be _fucking_ done, just because-

No. I stopped myself, again. Letting my thoughts spiral down like that wouldn't do anybody any good; I had to focus on the present, then, on the more pertinent issues that were at hand. While my reconnaissance mission had been a bust, I still had some degree of information I could work with. Firstly, the PRT was there, and in force. Secondly, Armsmaster was there, and was willing to use his Tinkertech devices at the slightest hint of a possible threat. I was fairly certain I saw my dad sitting at the table, too - unless they had some PRT officer dress up as a decoy, or some stupid bullshit like that - but he didn't appear to be confined or handcuffed or anything; if they _had_ been roughing up my dad, I would have ensured that Armsmaster and his thugs would have received due reciprocation, at some point in the future. More than that, though, something unsettled me: Sure, I had attacked three girls with a parahuman power, in the middle of a school, but I hadn't _killed_ any of them; at most, one could have gotten me for three counts of assault, maybe, so why in the hell was the PRT over-reacting _that much_?

What _were_ my options, though? I could just turn around and leave, could just turn and go and run, knowing that the PRT would be watching my house twenty-four-seven for me to try and sneak back; while I had certainly considered the possibility that - at some point - if my identity ended up being fully compromised, that I would have to skip town and make my way elsewhere. I wasn't exactly enamored with the idea of leaving Dad behind so soon, though, and especially not without being able to explain anything to him about what I was doing and why I was doing it; more importantly, I didn't have any funds or resources to assist in any sort of escape, so I would have to try to make a run for it with virtually no cash and no villainous connections to fall back on.

Alright, so maybe skipping out had some issues. What about just... Walking right on in? People always talked about how doing the unexpected was the best way to set your opponents off-guard, and I highly doubted that any of those PRT morons expected me to just waltz right into my house while they had the place cordoned off like that. I doubted that they had any actual _solid_ evidence as to my involvement in the attack, and were working only off of motivation and certain circumstances; I was fairly confident that I could lie my ass off to Armsmaster - helmeted polygraph test or not - and if I couldn't? Well, there were enough bugs _around_ my house that I had been gathering up that I was sure that I could turn the battlefield to my advantage if a fight broke out.

I resolved myself, and walked down the sidewalk up to my house; the two PRT agents standing outside the front door tensed as they saw me, one of them pressing a hand to his helmet and speaking in a low, inaudible voice. "Uhm, wh... What's going on? Is... Is everything okay? Is... Oh my God. Dad?! Is my dad okay?!" I was very glad that I had taken an amateur theater class last semester, but I was pretty certain that my fear, anxiety, and concern would have come across perfectly either way. As I "desperately" tried to rush into the house, the PRT agents held me back, even as I screamed and clawed forward. "Let me go! Let me see my dad! Tell me what's going on!" I supposed, at least, the fact that they hadn't immediately covered me in containment foam was a good sign.

A second later, and Armsmaster had opened the front door, staring down at me from his vantage point; _Christ_ , but he was tall, and I was fairly certain that only half of it was due to his power armor. "Taylor Hebert." It was a statement, rather than a question, and I immediately had to start working to suppress the frustration that began to brew the moment I heard Halderp's voice. "If you'll come inside, I have some questions I'd like to ask you about what happened at lunch today."

That was the first checkpoint that I knew that I'd have to pass; obviously, the Protectorate goon had a lie detector in his helmet, and obviously, _some_ of the kids saw me at lunch that day, but I had to hope that nobody would consider Armsmaster's polygraph test to be legitimate evidence, and had to hope that even if some of the other students _saw_ me, that they didn't _notice_ or _recognize_ me. "Wait, what happened at lunch?" As I climbed up the front steps, I gave Halderp a confused expression; for a moment, I felt an instinct to say "at Winslow", but I did my best to disclose the least about how much I knew, while stating things in a way that couldn't be analyzed by a lie detector.

Armsmaster, clearly, wasn't amused; even if he doubted the veracity of what I was saying, though, so long as he couldn't _prove_ anything beyond a reasonable doubt, then I would be fine. "Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements were attacked today, by a parahuman using bugs." The Protectorate thug stood out of the way, ushering me into _my own fucking house, you asshole, who put you in charge you piece of-_

"Oh my God, they _did_? Fucking great. I'm _glad_." I couldn't display any false sympathy toward the three in question; Armsmaster would _know_ that I had no love-loss toward the trio, and trying to pretend that I did would only have raised unnecessary red flags. "Are they dead? I hope they're fucking dead. Would make my life a lot easier." I noticed the two PRT agents share a glance at one another as I strode past Armsmaster into _my_ house. "Let me guess, you think I did it, or something?" I did my best to preempt what Armsmaster had likely been intending to say, taking control of the conversation before he did. "I didn't, but I fucking _wish_ that I had been able to do something like that. Attacked them with bugs, you said? Fucking cool. I hope they screamed." Maybe I was hamming it on too hard, but a little bit of my genuine anger was seeping through into my acted frustrations.

Armsmaster, for his part, simply stared down at me; I couldn't see his eyes, due to his visor, but his lips had formed into a hard, unamused line. "Into the dining room, if you would, Miss Hebert. Your father's there, and it might be best if everyone is present for this questioning." Again, he motioned toward _my_ kitchen, as if I somehow needed permission from _him_ to be able to walk around in _my_ house as I wanted.

"Alright, sure, whatever you say." With a dismissive wave, I walked into our house's little combined kitchen-dining room, where my dad was sitting down in a chair, looking ten years older than he was. "Sorry about this stupid crap, Dad." I smiled as I spoke, doing my best to suppress the complete and total anxiety and apprehension that was squeezing down hard on my heart.

"Taylor! They... They said that you might have attacked those three girls?" Dad looked like he wanted to stand up and rush over to me for a hug, but one of the PRT agents standing guard in our kitchen stopped him, and _I'd fucking tear you apart for keeping my dad and I away from each other in our own fucking house, you piece of shit, send cockroaches up your ass to eat you from the inside out if I thought I could get away with it, would-_

"I didn't, but I can see why they thought I did." I took a seat next to my dad, giving him a cynical smirk as I shook my head. "After all, it's not like I don't have a mountain of motivation for it, after all." After what had happened in January, I had told my dad about the bullying, about everything that Emma, Sophia, and Madison had been doing to me for the year and a half before the locker; that was when he threatened to take it to court, only to have Alan Barnes smack the both of us down like the legal nightmare that he was. To say that Dad's friendship with Alan had soured after that would have been an understatement, and the both of us had mutually reinforced our bitterness toward the school system and the whole damn situation; Dad, if nobody else in the whole fucking world, would have my back, no matter the circumstances.

"Indeed you do, Miss Hebert." Armsmaster sat down across from us, the bulk of his power armor clearly threatening to shatter the chair he was sitting in, and _if you break that I swear to God you stupid fucking cunt I will destroy you I will_ \- "Now then. I should inform you that I do have a lie detector in my helmet." The Protectorate captain lifted a finger to tap at the glass of his visor, before continuing. "I will be asking you a series of questions. I hope you understand that it's in your best interests to tell me the truth, yes?"

I scoffed, crossing my arms and looking away from my would-be interrogator. "Yeah, sure, whatever. You've clearly already made up your mind, but I'll play along with this little game of yours." Even as Armsmaster frowned at me, I felt my dad's hand rest on my shoulder, squeezing down soothingly and calmingly. I hated the fact that the PRT had dragged my fucking _dad_ into all of this bullshit. Couldn't they have just taken me downtown for questioning, or whatever it is that they did?

"Note for the record that Miss Hebert is displaying open animosity for PRT authority." Armsmaster pressed a button on his helmet as he spoke, and as my dad and I both looked at him in disbelief.

"Alright, listen, buddy." My dad spoke up, the beginning shades of an angry red on his face as he spoke. "I don't care if you're a hero or whatever. I've seen that kind of shit before in my career, and I know that you're just trying to intimidate her, to set her off balance before you even start questioning her. So how about you stop that crap and just get on with it?" He had stood out of his chair at that point, only to have the PRT agent yet again try to shove him back down into his seat; with begrudging look, Dad sat back down, but his glare was sharp enough to cut as he did so.

"I assure you, Mister Hebert, that this is all standard procedure." Armsmaster folded his hands on the table, and _if you get that dirty or ruin it I will absolutely positively-_ "But, as you say, it is about time for us to continue with the questioning." He looked to me, the hero's lips still in a tight line as he put forth his first query. "Miss Hebert. Were you the one that attacked Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements?"

I let out another sarcastic laugh, shaking my head and offering up a non-answer in an attempt to dodge his lie detector. "Like I told you before, I _wish_ that I was." Technically a truth, but obviously not really a direct response to anybody with half a brain; I just hoped that he would accept it without further issue.

I apparently either hadn't set off his lie detector, or Armsmaster just wasn't ready to play his hand quite at that moment. "That wasn't an answer." I saw my dad scowl, while I simply offered a small, wry grin. "Next question. Miss Hebert, did you attend school today, up until the incident at lunch?"

With yet one more scoff, I stared at Armsmaster with disdain for several moments before speaking up. "You know what's happened between me and those three... _Girls_ , don't you, Mister Armsmaster?" I intoned my voice with a cheery, sarcastic flavor as I spoke. "Are you _really_ surprised that I might just want to... Not go to school some days? Or that I might just want to leave early, before they can start any of their shit?"

"That _wasn't_ an answer, Miss Hebert." I could tell that Armsmaster was getting more and more frustrated with the game that I was playing, and I wasn't sure as to whether or not that was in my favor. "You're intentionally dodging my lie detector. I would appreciate it if you stopped. All you're doing is making yourself look more and more suspicious with each passing word." The only thing I offered in response was a tilt of my head and another innocent smile.

My dad, on the other hand, was more than willing to confront Armsmaster on the subject. "Alright, enough of this crap." My father threw off the hand of the PRT agent that time, prompting the assembled officers - Armsmaster included - to tense up in preparation for any potential outburst that he might have. "If you know my daughter's history, if you know what she's been through, if you know how _nobody_ in a position of power has even raised a single God damned _finger_ to help this family, then you shoulder be able to understand why my daughter might be a little bit distrusting of yet _another_ authority figure trying to make her out to be the bad guy for a situation where _she_ is the victim." Dad leaned over the table, so that his face and Armsmaster's were only a foot or so away. "So I would rather appreciate it if you stopped accusing my daughter of lying, sir."

The Protectorate enforcer stared at my father for several long, tense seconds, before speaking up in that hard, serious tone of his. "I am simply attempting to investigate a parahuman crime, Mister Hebert. I apologize if I am coming off as rude or abrasive, but it is simply part of my job. Now if you would sit down, Mister Hebert, so that we can continue the questioning?" As Armsmaster motioned to my dad's chair, he grimaced angrily, before taking his seat again; with a grateful smile, I reached over and squeezed his arm gently, mouthing a silent thanks as the hero continued talking. "Now then, Miss Hebert." I turned back to look at Armsmaster, a sardonic, annoyed look in my eye as I did; even beyond just the act I was putting on for the sake of deception, there was additionally the fact that - just as my dad had said - I couldn't believe that _I_ was being treated like the villain there, when, honestly, I hadn't really done much that was actually "wrong". "I want you to answer either with a yes, or with a no. Did you attack Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements at lunch today?"

I met his gaze for arduous moments, matching his stare for all of the intensity that it carried, allowing the tension to build before answering with a simple, solitary: "No."

"That's a lie." As Armsmaster spoke, the PRT agents in our kitchen tensed up, and I felt the bugs that I had gathered around our house stir in anticipation and readiness; the hero himself hadn't moved to attack by that moment, though, so I kept my swarm away for the moment. "Miss Hebert. I'd like you to come down to the PRT Headquarters for some additional questioning." I grinned wide enough to bare teeth, as I knew what those words meant; he wasn't arresting me, because his lie detector wasn't considered substantial enough evidence, and he didn't have anything else he could pin on me.

As my dad was more than willing to take point on the subject, I gladly allowed him to do so, maintaining my silence and preventing myself from giving anything else away to the PRT bozos. "Your so-called 'lie-detector' is busted or something, buddy." I saw the officers level their containment foam dispensers at my dad and I, clearly ready to pull the trigger the moment either of us showed a meaningful sign of aggression. "If my daughter says that she didn't attack those three brats, then she didn't attack them. End of. Got it?" Rather than waiting for a response from Armsmaster, Dad simply continued onward, barreling right past the hero. "Now then. Is Taylor under arrest, or is she free to go? Let me know _now_ , so that I can call my lawyer if I need to." Considering that I had landed Alan's daughter in the hospital with my little plot, I wasn't sure if my dad even _had_ a lawyer to call, but he certainly seemed to exude the confidence that he had legal backup ready.

The sound of the nearby clock ticking along on the wall resounded throughout the strained, shaky silence as everyone in the room seemed to stare at everyone else; after what must have been half a minute, Armsmaster responded, his voice full of barely contained anger and frustration. "Taylor Hebert is not under arrest, no. However, it _would_ be in _both_ of your best interests to just come in for questioning, so that we can clear this up, and-"

"Get out of my house." My dad's face was the color of fire, and his tone was like a powderkeg ready to go off; jabbing a finger in the direction of our front door, he repeated himself, a decibel louder. "Get _out_ of our house, _please_. We've gone along with this little game long enough, so please _leave_ before I have to call your Director and have her _make_ you leave." Hell yeah, Dad.

Armsmaster stared at my dad again for a short while, then directed his attention to me, giving me a look clearly intended to intimidate, to potentially make me crack at the last second; as Dad started to speak up again, though, Armsmaster scooted out of his chair, motioning to the PRT agents. "Very well, Mister Hebert. But do be aware that acting this way only makes things more difficult for _everyone_." As the rest of his goons marched out of our home - causing the floorboards to creak and _if a single one of you shitheads break anything on the way out I swear that I will_ \- the hero pointed a finger at me. "I hope you understand that we will be monitoring Miss Hebert for the foreseeable future, to make sure that she does not engage in any criminal or parahuman activities."

With a shake of his head, my dad scoffed, and responded with a bitter tone of voice. "That seems like a gross violation of my daughter's privacy and civil liberties, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised that an authority like the PRT is willing to stomp all over our constitutional rights. Yeah. I do understand. Now _get_ _out."_ Another sharp, hard gesture from my dad, and Armsmaster was gone; a minute or so later, we heard the PRT vans start up, and then drive away, leaving just the two of us alone in our house.

The moment I felt safe to do so, I wrapped my arms around Dad and gave him a big, tight hug. "Thank you, Dad. Thank you so much. You're more of a hero than that lame-ass Armsmaster ever could be." I gave him a kiss on the cheek, before squeezing him again. "Thank you for protecting me. Seriously, thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you here."

My dad, though, wasn't willing to take that little diversion for what it would meant to be; pulling out of the embrace, he held onto my shoulders, looking into my eyes with anxiety and desperation. "Taylor. You're welcome. Really, you are. I couldn't stand the way that jackass was just walking all over us like neither of us mattered, but..." He gave me a half frown, half smile, as he attempted to force the words out. "Taylor. Please. I understand why you might not have been honest with him, but can you please be honest with me?" I gave him my best, most innocent expression possible, and then offered a small nod. "Taylor. Did you attack those girls?"

"No, Dad. I didn't." As much as I loved my dad, I wasn't willing to get him tangled up in the shit that I had done, or any of the shit that I was planning to do; I wasn't a monster that got my family involved in my villainy, after all. "Like I told him, I'm glad that _someone_ attacked them, but that someone wasn't me." I smiled like an angel as I lied straight to his face; if nothing else, it was clear that he _wanted_ that answer out of me, so I supposed that I was actually doing him a favor by just lying like that.

"Alright." Sheer relief crossed my dad's face, and I thought I saw tears start to form in his eyes. "Alright. Thank you, Taylor." What he was thanking me for, I couldn't tell. "I'm just glad that you're okay. I'm just glad that _we're_ okay." He pulled me into an embrace of his own, kissing me on the forehead and stroking my hair. "I love you, Taylor. No matter what." Maybe he knew. Maybe he didn't. Like he had said, though, my dad loved me no matter what; in turn, I loved him just the same, and I would make sure that if those PRT thugs ever, _ever_ threatened our family, that they _would_ regret it.

Face buried into his chest, my grin twisted a little bit more viciously, as the cogs in my head began to turn; I had scouted out a few places over the past couple of weeks, places with relatively low security; there was relatively low return possible from knocking them over, but I supposed that every "villain" had to start somewhere, didn't they? Perhaps it would be rather stupid to go out and commit more crimes so soon after the PRT had been at my house, but God damnit, I had _stress_ built up that I needed to _somehow_ take out; I could sit around for a month or two waiting for the heat to die down like the sort of scared little girl that Emma, Sophia, and Madison had been victimizing and terrorizing for the preceding year and a half, and wait weeks to make my debut as a "villain", or...

"I love you too, Dad. No matter what." Even as I spoke those albeit genuinely meant terms of endearment to my father, there was a wide, devilish smile on my lips. At that point, I just needed to buck up and say screw it to waiting; before I could keep making excuses to myself, before I could keep finding reasons to consistently put it off, I had to head out and start being a villain _that night_ , PRT be damned.

I knew, of course, that Dad would understand; I was sure of that much, if of absolutely nothing else.


End file.
